


The "Cat" that Defied Belief

by Twobit_scribbles



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber
Genre: Eldritch Mistoffelees, Gen, Minor Horror Elements, No one is quite sure what Mistoffelees is, mild body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-24 07:17:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20702066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twobit_scribbles/pseuds/Twobit_scribbles
Summary: In which Mistoffelees is probably an eldritch monstrosity and it’s fine. No really, it’s no big deal.





	The "Cat" that Defied Belief

**Author's Note:**

  * For [loveisstoredinthemisto](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=loveisstoredinthemisto).

> I've tagged this work as "mild body horror" because Mistofelees' form inexplicable changes. There are no transformation scenes but if mild horror isn't your thing, you may want to turn back. 
> 
> This work was inspired by loveisstoredinthemisto’s Eldritch Mistoffelees headcannons! Thanks for the permission to play in your awesome sandbox!

While none of the Jellicles are sure just exactly _what_ Mistoffelees is, most were in agreement that he was at the very least, vaguely cat shaped. That is, as long as you didn’t look at him for too long, because things got a little fuzzy after that.

That was just the way things were ever since he’d wandered into the junkyard out of the blue one day, lost and hungry, with no explanation of where he’d come from. Old Deuteronomy had welcomed the little lost kit with open arms and that was where things would have usually ended.

At first he’d acted much the same as the other young toms in the yard; chasing and tumbling around, showing off, and occasionally making a fool of himself. And if he had a bit of a tendency to stare at the night sky like it was revealing untold wonders to him, or offhandedly mention things he probably shouldn’t know about in conversation, well, it wasn’t too unusual. Cats that were a little more sensitive to the world around them weren’t uncommon, after all the twins and little Jemima fit in just fine. Mistoffelees, despite his occasional vagueness was a sweet, friendly kit. It started innocently enough, with things that could be chalked up to kithood imagination.

At first, the kittens said that their new playmate’s fur kept changing. The white markings on his paws disappeared, they’d say, swallowed up completely by blackness! But the elders had a simple explanation; little Mistoffelees must have gotten his paws dirty playing in some soot. And when his marks returned (in different places than before, the kittens claimed) it was brushed off; little Misto had just stepped into a puddle, or simply washed the soot off. It was just as easy for the elders to dismiss the claims that Mistoffelees’ tail changed from as long and proud as any other kit’s tail to short, as if it had been cut, and then back again as kittens misremembering. And when the kittens said that sometimes Mistoffelees had more than one tail, well, they must have been confusing the black tail and its shadow for two tails instead.

But then toys and shiny baubles disappeared from the clearing only to be spotted high up on top of garbage piles too tall and precarious for any to climb. And then just as inexplicably, they’d find Mistoffelees playing with them.

And one day, his playmates saw Misto jump into a dresser drawer, but when they caught up with him the drawer was empty! The elders that had been supervising knocked their paws against the wood, but it was solid, there was only one way out, and no one had seen Mistoffelees climb up. All around the junkyard, mischievous laughter could be heard from deep inside hidden crevices.

After that even the elders started to whisper that when Mistoffelees was resting, stretched out on the tire, his eyes turned down to watch the others play, that they had caught a glimpse of something ancient lurking at the bottom of those deep yellow pools (Yellow? But weren’t his eyes green?). It would disappear the next time he remembered to blink, but then they were never certain that he’d blinked with only two eyes.

A creeping aura of unease seemed to follow the little kit wherever he went. Even though he was nothing but friendly and his manners were meticulously proper (much better than those of most kittens his age), even the elders disliked staying in his presence for too long.

Poor little Mistoffelees was just confused by the whole thing. Why didn’t his new friends want to play with him anymore? Had he done something wrong? His ever-shifting markings, once a source of surprised pleasure for him, were now a source of horrified hatred. Alone and afraid, he tried to blend in to the shadows of the junkyard.

Unfortunately for the poor kit, his efforts to hide only made things worse. The shadows surrounding him made his form even harder to pick out in the dark, and to the eyes of all, it became less and less cat-like. Some said that in the darkness they saw wings, other said many long, lashing tails, and still others said there were many large, shining eyes, but none could describe exactly what it was that they had seen. They only knew for certain that it was Mistoffelees, and that it wasn’t a cat anymore and might not have ever been one to begin with.

Quiet sobs were heard from dark corners. The kittens were getting scared and the elders worried. And while the psychic twins claimed they had never sensed anything actively malevolent about him, even they seemed to be growing more and more unnerved by Mistoffelees’ presence in the junkyard.

So of course Tugger loved him.

Ever the contrarian, where others were frightened, Tugger was charmed. He didn’t seem to notice the way the strange kit’s features seemed to shift at random or the way his form seemed to blur and distort. The uncomfortable air surrounding him couldn’t touch Tugger’s bubble of easy confidence.

Where the others saw unknown horror, Tugger saw wonder. He marveled at little Misto’s uncanny ability to get anywhere he wanted to go, regardless of how impossible it was. Every bauble Mistoffelees could conjure from far off places was met with cheers of amazement. Every disappearing trick was met with applause. Tugger laughed at Mistoffelees’ echoing, multiplied voice when it bounced around the junkyard and giggled from places unknown, and batted at his shoulders good naturedly when the sneaky kit managed to surprise him.

Tugger didn’t care for the distrust of the kittens or the distain of the elders. Mistoffelees was his friend, and he didn’t mean any harm. He was the most interesting cat he’d ever met, and the others could take their suspicion and shove it.

And where Tugger went, eventually the rest of the tribe would follow. After all, the inexplicable Mistoffelees, a cat who defied belief, was a member of their tribe at the end of the day, so who cared if he had a few little quirks.

So when Victoria looks up from her lounging storytelling to find that her conversational partner had wandered off and left his voice behind to hum at the appropriate points, she merely scoffed at the rudeness and swore to pay him back.

And when Mungojerrie and Rumpleteaser startle him out of a trance to be met with a dazed comment of “Oh right, you two are real!” they just sling their arms around him and rib him good naturedly, shouting, “Of course we are, how could you forget!”

And when his fur gleams with light, no one mentions that the edges of his outline blur, or that it seems less like starlight has settled on his shoulders, and more like the rays of something shining from deep inside trying to get out.

And while Munkustrap never quite got over his wariness of him (he had once made the mistake of looking at him while he was yawning), the Jellicle protector still loved his tribe, and had a duty to protect them all (even if the thought of what kind of creature could possibly leave _Mistoffelees_ in need of protection had kept him away from his naps more than once).

None of the Jellicles are sure just exactly what Mistoffelees is, but he is first and foremost a Jellicle, and there’s nothing at all to be done about that.

**Author's Note:**

> loveisstoredinthemisto’s Eldritch Mistoffelees gave me life, so I had to write this. Check them out, they’ve got some awesome headcannons!
> 
> Also had to sneak in my favorite personal headcannon: I like to think that Mistoffelees vaguely remembers the early version of the show where Mungojerrie and Rumpleteaser were trash puppets controlled by his own magic to entertain Bustopher Jones, so he gets confused on whether they are actually real or not.


End file.
